Mrs. Fairbanks regarded her son with humid eyes as he told the story of the day that night.
She did not try to express her emotion. She could not. Ever since Ralph had resolutely started at work, there had been what she greeted as a continual round of blessings. And Ralph shared her heartfelt gratefulness.
Right after supper they started together to visit Mrs. Davis. Ralph carried a basket which contained some dainties his mother had prepared for the invalid.
On their way Ralph told his mother of the suspicious circumstances of Gasper Farrington's visit to the Davis home the evening previous. He thought she ought now to know of it. He intimated, too, that it might be wise to warn Mrs. Davis.
"If she would only talk out what is evidently preying on her mind," observed Mrs. Fairbanks, "we could understand the situation much more clearly."
"You know she has promised to enlighten us in a way, this evening," suggested Ralph.
"The house is dark," said his mother, as they neared it.
"Yes, and—why, mother! the door is open."
Ralph knocked loudly. There was no response.
